“I am sorry I didn’t recognize you, Jasper. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let things go where they did.” Even his smile was apologetic.
He didn’t look panicked any longer, but I couldn’t help feeling somewhat insulted. What we had done mere hours before would’ve been okay if we’d never hooked up before? But somehow the knowledge of our past made me undesirable?
No. That wasn’t it. I wasn’t really sure what it was, but Russell’s guard was still down enough that I could see his attraction, his desire. Though it surprised me that a man like him would want a man like me. I lifted my chin, which only made me feel like a petulant child. “I said I was sorry that you didn’t know who I was. That I assumed you remembered me. I didn’t say I was sorry for what we did. I don’t regret it.”
I wasn’t entirely sure that was true.
The walls did come up then. Hard, fast, and solid. “It was unprofessional of me to… take advantage.”
I took another step back, feeling like I’d been slapped. “Take advantage? I came to you, remember?”
A crease formed in the center of his brows, and he straightened. “I’m here to protect you. You’re going through a rough, scary time. There will be times when you’re not thinking clearly.”
I didn’t have a quick temper, but to my surprise, it flitted through me. “Excuse me, I’m not some damsel in distress.” I groaned and shook my head. “God, I can’t believe I just said that. I fucking hate that trope. As if a woman needs a man to save her all the time. She can take care of herself. So can I.”
At that moment Harrison’s ringtone sounded from my bedroom.
I’d texted him when I went to bed the night before, but not when I’d woken up. He was probably calling in a panic.
Panic. Right. Because he feared I was in danger from Neal. Afraid that I couldn’t take care of myself where Neal was concerned. That fear was more than justified, given past experiences. And the whole reason Russell stood in front of me.
Because I couldn’t take care of myself.
As the phone quit ringing, I remained in place, forced my arms to stay at my sides, to not cover myself again as I felt more exposed and more filled with shame than I had in a long, long time.
The bruised and battered rose seemed to laugh where it lay dying beside Russell.
Fuck.
“Sorry.” I didn’t meet his eyes. Couldn’t. “Didn’t mean to lose my temper. This isn’t your fault. It’s Neal’s.” I gestured at the flower as if he were there, even as I disagreed with myself. It wasn’t even Neal’s fault. It was mine. “I’m sure Harrison can find another bodyguard. Probably get someone here in a couple of hours. You don’t have to stay.”
Russell took so long to reply that I finally looked up at him. He held my gaze, and though the walls were still there, I could feel… something. I wasn’t sure what, but something. “Is that what you want?”
Didn’t he?
And like I had any fucking clue want I wanted at the moment.
God, couldn’t even pretend that thought was true, not even to myself.
I shrugged.
He continued to study me and then gave a shrug of his own. “Unless you’re uncomfortable with it, I’d like to stay. I owe you that. I promise I’ll do a better job. I promise the roses will stop and I’ll keep you safe.”
I searched for that something again, whatever it was, but it was hidden away behind those walls, safely and securely. “Fine. Whatever you think is best.”
We stood that way for several minutes. So long it was painfully awkward. When Russell spoke again, his tone was calm and collected. Professional. “How about we get dressed and we’ll go down to the bookshop. You can introduce me to Xander; then I’ll go get coffee. Well, a coffee and a mocha with caramel drizzle.”
“You don’t have to do that. You’re here to protect, right? Not wait on me hand and foot.”
“Are you kidding?” At the humor in his voice, I looked up at him once more. “I’m doing it out of self-preservation. I’m willing to bet that if I don’t show up at his coffee shop, Pete will demand my head on a platter.” He gave a grin.
So, maybe friendly professional.
If I felt small next to Russell, I was willing to bet it was nothing compared to Xander’s experience. The kid was even diminutive next to me. Though, he’d just turned sixteen; he truly was a kid, so he had an excuse.
“So, he’s like a cop?” Xander whispered from our place behind the counter as we sipped our drinks from Lavender Leaves. His wide green eyes flashed to where Russell stood. After Russell had dealt with the police taking the rose as evidence and delivered the drinks from Lavender Leaves, he’d reclaimed his spot at the window.
“A bodyguard, actually.”
“He’s here for you?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, debating how much to say. Up until that point, Xander had survived an abusive childhood. I’d been careful about not worrying him with details about Neal. Maybe that was stupid. Xander had already survived so much that a stalker leaving roses probably wouldn’t even make him blink. “You know Harrison. He takes the role of big brother seriously. He’s just being overprotective.”
Xander considered and then smiled, that hint of hero worship in his eyes he often got. “Like you with me?”
I hadn’t done anything to earn that look. Not really. Just taken Xander on as part of the big brother program little less than a year before. And then gave him a job. The idea that I could keep anyone feeling safe, especially given my current situation, was laughable. “Yeah. Something like that.”
Maybe sensing us talking about him, Russell glanced over, lifting his brows in a way that I already recognized as Everything okay? After I nodded, he replied in kind, then returned to staring out the window while drinking his coffee.
“He is fucking hot.” Xander kicked my shoe with his behind the counter. “Lucky you.”
The boy had been so shy when we met he’d barely said five words over our first five interactions. How that had changed. I shook my head at him. “First off, he’s at least three decades older than you. Secondly, don’t say fuck in the shop. And lastly, eww.”
Nonplussed, he just grinned. “I can see the way you look at him. I’m glad.”
I did a double take.
He shrugged. “I am. You deserve someone nice.” His grin widened. “And fucking hot.”
“You think you’re so funny.” The kid really was a sweetheart. “It’s not like that.”
“Whatever you say, Jasper.”
After two hours of Russell impersonating the Royal British Guard, I couldn’t take it any longer. I went over to the mystery section, pulled out the first of JD Robb’s In Death series, and held it out to him. “Here. I know you said you haven’t really read since school, but give this a try. You might like it. Plus, if you’re going to stand in the window, I might as well use you to sell books.”
“Okay.” He took the novel and glanced at the cover before looking at me. “Why did you choose this one?”
“It’s sort of a procedural crime mystery.” The draw of the man had been powerful from across the room, but being close to him once more brought back memories of how it had felt to be sheltered naked in his arms. Some of my hurt and anger of the morning had dissipated, and I was nearly overwhelmed with a sense of loss.
I couldn’t focus on that insanity. I absolutely could not.
As always, books provided the escape. “Most of the time I can figure out what type of books a person likes within three attempts. Once I’ve got the flavor you like, I’ll be able to steer you exactly where you need to go next.”
“Once you’ve got the flavor I like?” He started to grin, then seemed to catch himself and cleared his throat. “Sorry. Never mind.” He lifted the book. “I’ll give it a try.”
Six
Russell
The entire world passed by as I stood at the window of Lavender Pages. People and situations that happened every day and in every other town across the co
untry, though very few of them took place in the midst of a storybook backdrop. People shopped, a window washer made his way down the storefronts across the street, mothers pushed strollers, cars battled with parallel parking, and small clusters of friends strolled as they laughed and carried on.
While in many ways Lavender Shores was just like everywhere else, the thing that made it so different was instantly identifiable. Among those window-shoppers, stroller-pushers, drivers, and groups of friends, men held hands with men, women with women. At one point, even the guy washing the Mexican restaurant’s windows across the street paused in his job as another man came up to him, talked for a while, and said goodbye with a very long, passionate kiss.
It wasn’t that Lavender Shores was a gay town, at least not exclusively. I saw just as many heterosexual couples as well; it was just that everything was equal. No one stared as two men held hands. No one moved to the other side of the street as two women shared a long embrace as they waited for the crosswalk light to change.
The strange thing was that after an hour or so, I realized that I’d stopped noticing.
I could just imagine what my father would say. What the rest of my family would say.
I did my best to shake that off. Reminding myself that at forty-seven, it was high time I drowned out all those old voices. Because, yeah… that was how it worked.
After a while, I tried reading the book Jasper had given me. The reason he’d chosen it was clear. It was about a hard-nosed sergeant solving murders. The things Jasper didn’t know about me, though, made reading about Eve Dallas only heighten those old voices. She served the dead while I protected the living. But while she was tearing around the streets of New York City finding justice for the dead, I was standing in the window of a bookshop hour upon hour, reading a damn novel.
I knew from the past few years that waiting around was simply part of the job. A bodyguard was fairly stationary, almost decorative, until he wasn’t. It was easy to feel useless, used up, and such a raging disappointment as I stood there while the world continued to turn. I could no longer pretend to be a hero like JD Robb’s character, but neither could I walk along the streets of Lavender Shores and blend in seamlessly.
I kept my attention focused on the street outside and the pages of the book. If I didn’t, I’d get lost in watching the redheaded bookshop owner. I caught myself staring at Jasper a couple of times as he helped Xander, as he assisted customers, as he stole moments here and there to read a book while he stood behind the counter.
I could taste him on my tongue. Feel him grow thicker in my mouth, the grip as his fingers dug into my shoulder, heard his cry of release. Pictured him above me, his body moving in such tantalizing beauty. The heady combination of his ass tempting my cock while he smiled down at me in near radiance.
The right thing to do, the smart thing to do, would be to call one of my buddies and have them take over. One of my straight buddies. I needed to get as far away from Jasper Getty as I could. For both our sakes. But each time I settled on one of the names in my mental Rolodex to come up and protect Jasper, the sense of loss was so great I rejected it before the idea could fully form. I wanted to be near Jasper a while longer. Just for a while. I’d been with his reincarnations countless times over the years; surely it couldn’t hurt being with the real thing. Maybe it would even help me get over my obsession.
More than that, genuinely more than that, I wanted to keep him safe. I trusted no one more than myself to do that. I had a long litany of failures, but I was the best one to protect him; I would keep him safe. I owed him that much. Though he didn’t know it, I had a debt to repay.
“You made it nearly halfway through the book, you must’ve liked it.” Jasper had just told Xander goodbye, and turned over the Closed sign before coming my way.
To my surprise, I realized he was right, but I didn’t remember more than the first few chapters. I guess at some point I’d just started turning pages. “I can see why you thought I’d like it. Dallas is a kickass character.”
He cocked his head as his eyes narrowed. “Oh. You didn’t like it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Interesting. I did say it could take me up to three times to get it right.” He held out his hand, and I surrendered the book. “What didn’t you like about it?”
“Jasper, I didn’t say I didn’t like it. It’s just that—”
His stern expression cut me off.
I would’ve laughed if it hadn’t been so adorably sexy. Goddammit, I had to smother thoughts like that. “I think, maybe, it was just a little too on the nose. Kinda like reading about your job while you’re doing your job. A little heavy.”
He glanced down at the cover and then back up. “Really? That’s part of why I chose it. I thought it was similar enough to what you do that you could relate, but different enough, with the murder investigation and such, that it would provide a little bit of an adventure for you.”
I was taken aback by how much thought he’d put into it. And in a different situation, maybe he’d be right. But instead, it just reminded me of all I’d lost. I hated to disappoint him, though. “I’m sorry. I can try again tomorrow.”
He grimaced, rifled through the pages as if checking for damage, then walked back to a shelf and slid it into place. “No. Nothing to apologize for.” He flashed a smile. “You’re a challenge. I like that.”
If Jasper meant it in a teasing sexual way, he didn’t let it show, and again, goddammit, that disappointed me. I was such a fucking mess. One second determined to keep things professional, then the next devouring his cock, considering different bodyguards to take my place and then getting lost in the memory of him asleep in my arms. With him nuzzled warmly against me, I’d found a moment I’d hoped would never end.
But it had. Of course.
“We’ve got about ten minutes until Tuesday Night Book Club. You need to go upstairs and freshen up or anything?”
I struggled to refocus on his words, to figure them out. To block the vision of him dreaming in my arms. “Um… isn’t it Sunday?”
“Yeah, but tonight is kind of a special event. We’re meeting at Boudoir, and they’re having a bachelorette party in the back room on Tuesday, so Regina moved it to tonight. There’s a scene in the chapter we’re on in Delivering Dante that called for a little something extra.”
I barely understood three words of that sentence. “I don’t know if it’s such a great idea to be going out and about tonight. Neal left you that rose this morning. You’d be safer staying in.”
“The police have it. They’ll get any prints there are to find, as if we need them. They’ll be looking out for us… for me, too. Boudoir is just down the block and across the street. We won’t be going far.” He walked up to me once more. “And Neal isn’t hiding somewhere on the rooftop with a scope getting ready to assassinate me or anything. You’re more than enough to keep me safe.” His gaze flashed up to mine, and for the first time since entering the store, some of the heat was back in his eyes, as well as a challenge. “That’s why you’re here, right? You’re just here to keep me safe.”
I swallowed. “Right.”
“So then, keep me safe.” Yes, there was definitely a challenge in those eyes, but after a couple of seconds, it was replaced by a humorous glint. “I think I should warn you, Regina Bryant’s book club can get a little rowdy.”
Boudoir was a lingerie shop nestled between a florist and a New Age store with crystal balls and fairy statues in the window. I hadn’t seen lacy bras and panties in seven years. If I didn’t count seeing them when I helped with laundry, then even longer than that. I gaped down at Jasper. “The book club meets in a lingerie store?”
He laughed. “You look utterly horrified.”
That’s because I was. I’d been in countless life-and-death situations, looked down the barrel of more than one gun, and I’d been prepared for each and every one of those situations. I most definitely was not prepared, in any sense, for whatever kind
of event occurred in the presence of women’s undergarments. “I would say terrified. But—” I pointed to a black-and-tan pair of crotchless panties “—what kind of books do you sell exactly?”
“Good ones. Don’t worry. We’re not actually going to be surrounded by underwear during the book club.” At that moment a wild cackle issued from somewhere in the back. Jasper grinned. “Sounds like the wine has already been poured.”
As if answering, a high-pitched laugh confirmed Jasper’s suspicion.
“You know, for a bodyguard, you look terrified a lot.” Though he was clearly teasing, Jasper seemed to regret his words as his expression grew serious and he reached out to touch my arm.
We both flinched at the contact, and he dropped his hand instantly. It had only been a matter of hours, but that brief graze of his fingers revealed that I’d missed the feel of him. I was losing my mind.
“Really, Russell, if you’re uncomfortable with the book club, it’s okay. You don’t have to stay. If I recall, there’s no back exit to that room.” He pointed to the main counter, which was a Victorian desk draped in red velvet. “You can hang out here and stand guard if you want. Or even take a couple of hours off. I’m going to be surrounded by people. I couldn’t be safer.”
“No. I’m not leaving you. I’ll be fine. How out of hand can the book club get?”
Jasper just cocked his brow and then led the way.
Despite my best intentions, as we stepped through a thick curtain of black, pink, and gold beads into the back room, I nearly reconsidered.
The small space was completely packed with around twenty women, some of them octogenarians. Clearly we were late, judging by the drunken revelry, or they got started early. And every one of them, every single one, brought to life one of the items from the store. After a quick—a very, very quick—scan, it appeared none of them had chosen the crotchless ensemble. Thank God.
The Alcove (Lavender Shores Book 7) Page 8
